Once a snowy evening
by geradsredskittle666
Summary: Sherlock finds out John was abused as a child. Another peice in the puzzle that is Watson. Contains character death (Harry). Warnings for child abuse, alcaholism and depression. Pairings: Sherlock/Watson friendship
1. Chapter 1

Once a snowy evening

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of its related property. I make no profit from this. I write to entertain.

Warnings: child abuse, depression, alcaholism

START

John sighed loudly, his mobile fixed to his ear. Despite the overly cheerful tone he was talking in, his face expressed great frustration.

"Got yourself locked up again?!" he asked incredulously.

"You know you can't keep doing this." he said tiredly.

The person on the phone didn't appear to be accepting that statement though...for John raised his voice this time. "Why can't you give rehab a chance again? Huh? Why must you make things harder for us all? I swear the army was much less difficult than this" he said clearly.

"You have it hard? Are you serious?"

"Your seriously bringing that up now? You know that wasn't my fault!"

Another growl of frustration.

"That was not my fault. That was..."he paused sounding tired again. "Look how many times do I apologise for not helping you when I should have? I know father messed us up but fighting amongst ourselves isn't helping." he said much calmer this time.

"What was I supposed to do? Stop him? I was 12. Like I could stand up to him...you should know after what you saw him do to me before all this..." he exhaled frustratedly "mess".

"Fine, throw your life away. Mother may still have it in her to care but I'm done." he said sounding resigned.

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Sherlock POV

Well that was disturbing. I assume...no I know that was Harry. His sister.

Still what an odd conversation...I need more data!

I enter his room, he is sitting on his bed. "What was that about?" I ask directly.

He ignores me, looking away, trying to hide his red eyes. He has been crying? "John? Have you been crying? Because -"

He cuts me off. "Yes Sherlock. I'm not sure you would understand" he says cuttingly.

Still in a bad mood then. "What happened with Harry?" I ask.

He laughs harshly. "So you can solve the puzzle? Its simple enough that even I understand it."

Of course I want to solve the puzzle that is John Watson but I want to help too. "I want to help" I say firmly.

He sighs. "Fine. Harry is in jail again. Theft this time. Her fourth time for that." he laughs like its a joke.

"But thats not all thats on her record." I simply state.

"Hmmmm" he agrees "Break and enter twice, held up a convenience store once too, possession of drugs at least six times, possession with intent to sell at least twice, destruction of property and drunk and disorderly conduct more times than I care to remember." he rattles off like a list of groceries.

"Not just related to her drinking, right?" I ask.

"Nah. Drug related charges aren't. Not really. She had to take up a job and no one else would take her." he explains.

"Not just drugs though right?" I probe.

"No. My baby sister has "entertained" men for money." he says softly. Sounding regretful.

"I'm sure there was nothing you could do. You wouldn't hurt her. You wouldn't give up" I say, trying for encouraging.

"I spose...I tried though. Fathers mind was set. He didn't need another useless drunk around. God knows mother didn't need the extra expenses either. What else was to happen?" he says dryly.

Sherlock couldn't help but feel sorry for Harry. He had been lucky enough to have his family by his side. When they couldn't stand him, the household staff were obligated to help.

"She was just thrown out?" he asked.

"Yep. She wasn't even wearing a coat. I tried to talk them out of it. I got..." he pauses carefully, catching himself. "I wasn't rewarded for my efforts. She has never forgiven me." he finished.

He was hiding something. What was his parents response to his pleading for his sisters sake? Why hide it?

He couldn't deny feeling disapproval at John and Harry's parents. To just throw out the child? To not even give the child a coat only indicated at worse neglect. Could this be a sign of more? John had indicated on the phone that his sister should know of her fathers strength over child John. That she had seen more than enough evidence. Evidence? He felt dread. He had to turn away (pretending to think of course) to hide the way such thoughts made his stomach turn.

John appeared to be ignoring him now. He used the opportunity to leave. He would need Mycroft's help on this case. Maybe even Lestrade's too...

AN: R and R as usual.


	2. Chapter 2

Once a snowy evening

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of its related property. I make no profit from this. I write to entertain.

Warnings: child abuse, depression, alcoholism, suicide

START

Sherlock had been waiting for a reply for longer than Mycroft usually took. Maybe hacking into the police records himself would have been better...his phone dinged and he quickly checked it.

"Mycroft?" he heard John ask.

Sherlock merely grunted in assent and walked out the door.

No doubt John would misinterpret his annoyance at directed toward his brother. As was his MO, naturally.

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Sherlock sat waiting anxiously for his brothers news. Mycroft would have enjoyed watching Sherlock suffer but he wasn't that cruel. This was serious business.

He handed over a file. It was thick. Sherlock merely gave the cover a glance. "Thats all I have on the father. His mothers file is much more boring. Of course John was telling the truth about his sister. A smaller file sat on top a much larger one in front of Mycroft. Sherlock merely opened the file on the father.

A photo indicated a man of sturdy statute and well worn hands showed a hard worker. Or would if he were not so fat. His job before he had quit showed that he had been a labourer. Hardly enough to take care of a family of 4 but a paper in the file indicated that his wife had worked as a receptionist where she could. She had taken a typing course at a local school and quickly proven loyal and efficient at her work.

Police records showed many instances of police being called to their house. Mostly for supposed domestic violence. Never by the wife. But concerned neighbours reported often hearing yelling and shouting and that sometimes Mrs Watson and her children had odd bruises. School reports showed that John and Harry had "behaviour problems" and Harry had been caught with smokes or alcohol before. The school psychiatrist (what an idiot!) had thought that both children were being influenced by rougher peers or maybe even bullied. Often absence had been noted too, though when asked John's mother denied he was a sickly child. So why were both children absent so often?

A few hospital reports were in there. Some for broken arms from "falling out of trees" or bruises from "falling down the stairs" (Really? Was everyone a moron?) or cuts from "fights with the neighbourhood boys". Yes there was a pattern Sherlock didn't like...

"I see you see you deduct what I have." Mycroft said evenly, but Sherlock could hear a slight shaking to it.

Not trusting his voice he merely nodded.

Mycroft sighed dramatically. "You have you answer then. The pattern is similar in both children's files. Of course John's ends when he joined the army and Harriets when she fell of the grid at 10, aside from the police arrests."

"Monster" Sherlock muttered to himself. How could a father harm his children so? Even a mind like Sherlock's found that unreasonable.

"Oh little brother, I do so agree." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Does he still live?" Sherlock asked deadly quiet.

"No, after he was jailed for killing his wife..."he paused. "The guards recorded an accident of sorts. He was found dead. From what is unclear. Between the strangle marks, burns, bruising, cuts and broken bones it was hard to tell what finished him." Mycroft finished.

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When Sherlock came home he had calmed down significantly. John was asleep in front of the tv, a half filled cup of cold tea on the table. Sherlock took a moment to observe John. To see if he had really missed what was there all along. He cast his mind back to when the first met. To the cases they had solved...

Nothing stood out. Not one thing. It was frustrating. He supposed that the army might have trained him out of some of the more typical reflexes.

He huffed in annoyance before going to work on one of his experiments.

The phone rang interrupting his work. Not his. Watsons. It was Lestrade...

"John? I'm so glad we got onto you! Its your sister." he said sounding relieved.

Sherlock sighed. "Its not John. What is it you needed?" he asked bored.

"Family business. I can only tell John."

"John is sleeping." Sherlock growled defensively.

"Well, his sister is freaking out. I'm hoping John can help us before we have to actually hurt her." Lestrade said worriedly.

Sherlock weighed his options. It was clear that Lestrade didn't want to harm John's family. He would have used up all his other options (barring force) at his disposal, calling in family when John had a risk of getting hurt wasn't done. "We will be there as soon as we can" he confirmed.

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The pair arrived on the scene much to Lestrades relief. He wasted no time briefing John. Without bothering to seek out a more private area, he started to explain "We found you sister last night. She had a stolen woman's bag on her, without the cash of course..."he paused. "Anyway. We arrested her, when it was clear she wasn't in her right mind, we put her in a holding cell for the night to calm down. One of my officers went in to check on her and she went crazy on him. Started screaming about 'not going back' and 'couldn't stop' and 'they hang me now'. She managed to surprise him and tackled him down. She has his gun. He managed to get out with only a concussion. She won't us near her, threatens to shoot anyone within a metre of her. We don't want to have to take her down..."he finished uneasily.

John's phone went off. A message. He quickly checked it. Without replying or showing Sherlock, he put his phone away and turned to Lestrade. "I'll try to help you" he said calmly.

Sherlock watched this with interest. John wasn't showing the usual nerves or worry that loved ones usually showed. He was being colder than usual. John's language was interesting too. He had stated that he would help Lestrade. Not that he would help his sister...but Lestrade? The siblings were estranged yes but surely he still cared?

In the holding cell the air was tense, cops ready to pull the trigger stood ready. They fingered their guns nervously. It was a bad situation. Sherlock could tell that the slightest trigger would be enough. In the middle of the room, Harry sat. She looked disorganised and angry. Her eyes darted over the officers, as she gripped the stolen gun.

Sherlock looked over her form. It was unsettling. She looked to be high. Maybe. That fit the scene but it seemed wrong. Why was it wrong?

John took the lead. "Sister..."he said calmly.

She grinned, looking insane. "So glad your here." she replied sarcastically.

"That makes one of us." John said before sitting down on the floor. "I'm told your causing a scene. What are you on this time?" he asked easily.

Sherlock observed the pair. While this was not a conventional way of talking someone down, it seemed the way the pair communicated.

She sighed dramatically. "Enough old news. Is your required time over?" she asked sarcastically.

John took the hint. As he was leaving, two officers approached her. She reacted too quickly to even see, let alone predict! Immeaditly a loud gun shot rang out in the small room, on instinct John had thrown himself to the ground.

Sherlock found himself pushing his way toward John, not quite knowing why he felt so...worried? He almost wished he hadn't. The scene was enough to turn his stomach. The smell of a fresh corpse, the blood on the walls and pooling on the floor...he forced himself to focus. Find John. Check on John.

Sherlock easily found his place next to John. John was unharmed, he was getting up to check the scene himself. The officers were starting to move too. Lestrade looked horrorstruck.

In the middle of the room Harry's body lay bleeding and lifeless. Blood pooled around her head, where she had shot herself.

Sherlock found it impressive how quickly Lestrade seemed to change and take charge of everything. Soon shaken officers were carrying out his orders. John hadn't moved and no one had asked him too. Sherlock could feel John shaking.

John took a moment before getting up. Though shaken, he was okay. He coldly took in the scene. "Looks like father got another one" he commented to himself.

Sherlock frowned in confusion, trying to kick his mind into action. Of course. Harry's father would have introduced her to drugs and alcohol early. The abuse at his hands would have predisposed her to feeling helpless and out of control. "Another one? Your mother?" he asked quietly.

He thought John wouldn't reply. But after a minute he did. "Yes, he killed mum but she was dead inside long before he beat her to death. He made Harry who she was." he replied.

"I'm sorry. Thats what people say, isn't it?" Sherlock said.

John sighed. "Yeah thats what they say. I never knew why either." he said, before bursting into laughter. Sherlock found himself laughing too. Some of the officers gave them weird looks but most were too absorbed in their work to care.

"Arn't you afraid he will get you too?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

"Nah, the army taught me to be more than that!" John easily replied.

Sherlock found some of his worry ease. Of course he should have seen that anyway.

AN: R and R. Hoping to get one more chapter out soon.


	3. Chapter 3

Once a snowy evening

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of its related property. I make no profit from this. I write to entertain.

Warnings: child abuse, depression, alcoholism, suicide

START

Sherlock was fustrated. Nothing was making sense. John who had been abused, showed no such signs to him. John, whose sister had just killed herself in the same room as him, wasn't showing any signs of typical grief. Nothing was making sense. He was missing something...

The scene in the holding cell was also bothering him. Harry had shown enough convincing signs of being too effected by drugs to be in touch with reality, yet she had shown a razor sharp focus when speaking to her brother and when keeping a watchful eye on the police around her. She had reacted far too quickly to the police approaching her.

Was it intended?

This made sense but why? Why stage the scene? To get her brother to see her? No, she didn't want him around. She also had no other family to want to see or to pass on any sort of message.

Maybe it was just a simple suicide? Lestrade had said she was rambling...was this an act too or was there a grain of truth in the lie? With her record, it was likely that the courts would not favour her. She was also struggling with her drinking problem. Was this just what had broken her? Driven her to blow her brains out?

Why not simple do so at home? Or rent a hotel away from prying eyes? Or even in some abandoned warehouse?

It didn't add up!

He cast an eye over his friend. "You really alright?" he asked. Another thing that made no sense...how was John so okay when he had seen his sister shoot herself. Seen her bloody corpse.

John gave him a half smile "More or less" he replied. He had yet to even cry or act in any way grieving. It had worried Lestrade but he guessed shock played its part. Of course Lestrade guessed wrong...

"Why arn't you upset?" Sherlock demanded.

His friend sighed. "I'm not. She got what she wanted. Peace." he said calmly.

"Peace?" he asked.

"Yes. From the nightmares of fathers abuse. From the torment of her addiction. Living from jail to rehab in a pretty much endless cycle wasn't easy for her." John explained softly.

"So it was a staged suicide?" he asked.

Anyone else would have slapped him for that comment, not John. "Told you it was an easy puzzle" he said.

"Are you sure?" Sherlock asked sharply.

John took out his phone and handed it to Sherlock. It showed a text from Harry only moments after they had reached the police station. _Brother...I've screwed up too much this time. I can't live a normal life like you. I'll tell mother you love her or give father hell. Thankyou._

Sherlock relaxed again, feeling all the pieces settle in place now. This text was the missing link he needed. "Thank you" he said meaning it.

John grinned back. "Yeah, I couldn't stand watching you try make sense of the clues you had" he said knowingly.

John got up and went to to kitchen. He fell into routine, making 2 cups of tea. The pair settled watching tv.

Sherlock realised that John really was okay. It wasn't that he was acting okay or that he was in shock. He actually was happy that his sister had found peace in death. Sherlock found that suited John quite well. He reached for his phone. _John is okay. Really okay. No need to worry. SH_ he sent off to Lestrade.

AN: end of the story! Working on my others as I can before uni starts back up.


End file.
